“You must be the lumberjack,” she says, flashing a wide, nosy grin.
I have no idea how much Pix told her, so I stick with “Family friend.” It’s what I always say when I don’t feel like fielding follow-ups. “And you’re Kali, Miss Alvarez’s PA.”
She beams. “I didn’t have time to grab my luggage before everything went sideways. Thanks for handling Pierce.”
“Not a problem.”
We step off on the floor, and Kali leads the way. “Ava’s room is right here.” She swipes a keycard and lets us in.
“You have a key to her room?” I ask.
She nods. “It can be lonely at the top. So, we’re sharing.”
Kali tips her chin toward the bedroom. “When Ava wants privacy, she shuts the door. Which almost never happens.” She considers that for a moment. “When she wants company because some dickwad won’t leave her alone, she has me.” Her smile is faint. “Best friend duty.”
I step inside.
Pix’s suitcase sits on one side of the bed. Impossible to miss. Bright purple, loud, with skulls and marigolds. The other side is already turned down, sheets folded back the way hotels do it when they expect someone to sleep there.
I don’t share that she didn’t sleep there.
Or, that she didn’t sleep.
The pullout couch is made tight. Crisp corners. Pillows stacked neatly. No signs of use.
I take it all in.
The suite is expansive. Vaulted ceilings. Enough square footage to park a few cars.
Habit has me checking the closets. The doors. A place like this usually connects to adjacent rooms.
Every one of them is bolted shut.
“They couldn’t get her the penthouse?” I joke.
Kali shrugs. “Her manager took that one. Otherwise, they spare no expense. Anything she wants. At her fingertips.”
I take it in and run through the timeline. Maid service early afternoon. Butler turn-down service.
The room makes sense. The layout tracks. Nothing jumps out.
And yet, something feels… off.
“Everything okay?” she asks. “You look worried.”
I force a grin. “All good. Just curious. Anyone else been in and out today? Besides housekeeping and the butler?”
She considers it. “I don’t know. Her manager, Almyra Crowne, maybe. Or one of her lackeys. Pretty much anyone Myra snaps her fingers at. I was running late, and the room had to be checked to make sure everything was in order.”
Great. So that narrows it down to pretty much everyone.
“Will Ava be back tomorrow?” she asks, hopeful. “I’ll need to stock the fridge for when she returns.”
“Yep,” I say.
Definitely not.
But that’s not something I’m saying out loud. Not yet. Not without talking to Pix first.
